


Midnight Oil, Weaponized Aphrodisiacs, and Other Ignoramus Inventions

by indiefic



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Peggy will throw herself on that grenade, Sex Pollen, Steggy - Freeform, steve just can't even with all this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-28 20:30:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5104721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indiefic/pseuds/indiefic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>General McGuinness stole one of Howard's more sinister inventions, Midnight Oil.  Now the toxic compound is on the loose and America's golden boy has been exposed.  Agent Carter to the rescue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight Oil, Weaponized Aphrodisiacs, and Other Ignoramus Inventions

**June 26, 1944**

 

Steve woke with a hacking cough, the likes of which he hadn’t experienced since before he was administered Erskine’s serum a year earlier.  He tried to sit up, but found he couldn’t.  He looked down at himself.  He was in a hospital bed, in what looked like a hospital room.  He was in restraints.  An experimental tug let him know they weren’t standard hospital restraints, or a standard hospital bed.  He’d have a hell of a time trying to get out of these.  

 

He looked around the room, just as three orderlies entered, all big guys.  He was reassessing the orderlies thing.  They were dressed like orderlies, but Steve knew they were military.  They looked pretty beat up, scrapes, scuffs.  One of them had his hand in a brace.  Another had a pronounced limp.  They all looked surly.

 

“What’s going on?” Steve asked, his throat dry and scratchy.

 

The men just stood there.  The door was soon opened again, this time by Colonel Phillips.  He looked at Steve and then barked, “Out!”.  The fake orderlies clearly didn’t like the idea, but they obeyed.

 

“Sir?” Steve asked, blinking.  His eyes hurt and his throat was on fire.

 

“Welcome back, son,” Phillips said, taking a seat in a chair, watching him.

 

“What happened?” Steve asked.

 

“What do you remember?” Phillips asked.

 

Steve shook his head.  He coughed again and tried to cover his mouth, but couldn’t.  

 

Phillips frowned and stood up again, opening the door and barking again until two more fake orderlies entered.  One of them had two black eyes.  Cautiously, they removed Steve’s restraints.  Steve rubbed his wrists reflexively, watching as the men left the room.  Phillips handed him a glass of water and he gladly took a drink.

 

“Uh,” Steve said, rubbing his forehead.  “R&D labs in Buckinghamshire.  Contact was lost with them and I took a team of five to investigate.”

 

“Is that all you remember?” Phillips asked.

 

Steve wracked his brain.  Nothing.  “Pretty much,” he said.  He looked around again.  “Where are the other fellas?  Do they know what happened?”

 

Phillips expression was grim.  “You were the only survivor,” he said, “out of the original laboratory occupants, and your team that was sent in to investigate.”

 

Steve stared at him.  The lab had three dozen employees and then his team of five to investigate.  They were all dead?  More than forty people?  “How?”

 

Sighing heavily, Phillips sank into his chair.  “A General McGuinness let one of Stark’s more catastrophic inventions loose,” he said.  “Something called Midnight Oil.  Stark designed it on a commission from the Army to keep soldiers awake for days.  It might do that.  No one knows for sure, since it also makes them psychotic, homicidal, and prone to hallucinations before they asphyxiate.”

 

Steve coughed again and then looked at the water glass.  “I was exposed,” he said.

 

Phillips nodded.  “The stuff causes symptoms similar to prolonged sleep deprivation.  You’re the only one, out of an entire battalion of Russian soldiers and everyone in that lab, to survive.”

 

Steve looked down at his hands and then back to Colonel Phillips.  “How did they die?”

 

Phillips frowned and looked away.  “Some of them asphyxiated,” he said.

 

“And those who didn’t?” Steve prompted.

 

“They tore each other apart,” he said quietly.  “Hell of a thing.  Never seen anything like it.”  He shook his head sadly.  “It was a mess.  Lost a lot of fine men.”

 

Steve swallowed thickly, fear and guilt gnawing at him.  “Did I - “

 

“We don’t know, son,” Phillips said.  “Not yet.  They’re still picking up the pieces, cataloging them.”  He frowned. “You weren’t with the rest of the ... bodies, when you were found.  We think maybe you tried to lock yourself away.  We were really hoping you might be able to help us fill in the gaps.”

 

Steve shook his head.  “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.  “I don’t remember.”

 

* * *

 

Steve was discharged the next day after a deeply disturbing and restless night of sleep.  He was supposed to report for duty.  When he showed up, they had him following Howard around a lab.  Howard looked at least as bad as Steve felt.  His eyes were red rimmed and shadowed with purple hollows.

 

“How do ya feel?” Howard asked.

 

Steve shook his head.  “Fine.”  It was mostly true.  His head was clear, apart from the fact that he wouldn’t remember a chunk of about twenty-four hours.  When he initially woke in the hospital, there had been some faint bruising, scratches, but those had faded in a matter of hours.  His heart and his mind were another matter entirely.

 

“The coughing?” Howard asked.  

 

“Gone.”

 

Howard frowned, shaking his head.  

 

Steve understood that Howard was upset, and not with him.  General McGuinness had raided Howard’s lab, used his invention and got a whole mess of people killed, including the five men Steve had taken with him to the lab.  Steve had never been so thankful Bucky and the rest of the Howlies were stuck in Italy.  He mourned the loss of the men.  He feared he may have played a part in it.  But if something had happened to any of the fellas ...  “What’s going to happen to McGuinness?” Steve asked.

 

Howard shook his head.  “Dunno,” he said.  “I suspect they’ll hush it up as usual.  Doubt he’ll get more than a slap on the wrist, if even that.”

 

“Maybe Peggy can find out more,” Steve said hopefuly.

 

Howard stopped and turned slowly to face Steve.  He winced.  “They didn’t fuckin’ tell ya, did they?”  He rubbed his forehead with his hand.  “ _Shit_.”

 

Steve’s heart was beating too fast.  Didn’t tell him what?  And what did it have to do with Peggy?  “Howard?”

 

Howard took a deep breath.  “What _did_ they tell ya?”

 

Steve shook his head.  “That the gas made everyone go nuts.  That I was the only survivor.  They found me away from where they found the rest of the people who were exposed.  They thought maybe I tried to lock myself up or something.”

 

Howard nodded slowly, closing his eyes.  “There was a second team,” he said.  

 

Howard took a deep breath, guilt clear on his features.  “I called Peggy,” he said.  “After I visited Finow.  I told her about Midnight Oil, told her they had to keep it under lock and key.  She said it was too late, they’d already lost contact with the R&D lab where it had been taken and that a team had already been sent in to investigate.  When she found out you were on the team, she tore ass for Buckinghamshire, rendezvoused with the second team and stopped them.”  He took a deep breath.  “She went in alone.”

 

Steve swallowed thickly.  “Alone?  Was she exposed?”  He stood up, paced in a tight circle.  “Howard?  Is she alive?”  Oh, God, if something had happened to Peggy.  

 

Howard was standing there, hands up, palms out to Steve in a placating gesture.  “She’s alive.  That’s all I know,” he said.  He took a breath.  “She wasn’t exposed to Midnight Oil.  She had my antidote.”

 

Steve opened his mouth and then shut it again.  “Howard?” he started.  He stopped.  “Howard, where did they find her?”

 

Howard cursed, closing his eyes.  He opened them and looked at Steve.  “It’s all Top Secret, ya know.  So, of course, there are rumors galore.”  He sighed.  “You have to understand, Steve, I didn’t have any idea how it would affect your physiology.  Peggy was ...”  he trailed off.  “She was worried what would happen if you were exposed, if you were under the gas’s influence and attacked people.”

 

Steve could barely breathe.  “She went in after _me_.”

 

Howard nodded.

 

Steve crossed, the room, grabbing the lapels of Howard’s jacket.  “What happened, Howard?” he demanded.  “What happened to Peggy?”

 

Howard stared up at him, shaking his head.  “I don’t know,” he swore.

 

Steve forced himself to release Howard.  He backed again, leaning back against one of the lab tables.  “What _do_ you know?”

 

Howard cursed under his breath again.  “It was like Phillips said,” Howard explained.  “They found you, away from everyone else.  It looked like you locked yourself away.  We don’t know yet.  We may never know.  It’s highly probable that all three dozen of the lab staff were already dead before you and your team arrived.”

 

“So I only killed my own men,” Steve finished.

 

Howard shook his head, his expression hard.  “We don’t know that, Steve,” he snapped.  “We don’t know anything yet.”

 

“We know that I’m the only one who was left alive.”

 

“Yes,” Howard said, “and you were found away from everyone else.  The gas is damn lethal all on its own.  The men you took into that facility very well could have asphyxiated or torn each other apart, all without any help from you.”

 

Steve was still breathing hard.  “What happened to Peggy?”

 

Howard shook his head.  “I heard it took a dozen guys to get her out of there,” he said quietly.  He looked up at Steve, palms up again.  “You beat the hell out of them, after they shot you full of sedatives.  I don’t know how they finally managed to subdue you.  As far as Peggy, I don’t know,” he stressed.  “I know she’s alive.  I know she wasn’t exposed to the toxin.  I know that Phillips sent her away somewhere, probably to keep her out of McGuinness’s reach.  That’s all I know.”

 

“You don’t know what happened to her,” Steve said darkly, ”but you suspect.”

 

Howard winced and looked away.  “Yeah,” he said.  “I suspect.”

 

“I hurt her,” Steve said quietly.

 

Howard nodded.  “It’s very likely.  It’s just what that damn drug does to people.  But you didn’t kill her.  Steve, you have to understand, that gas, it turns people into animals.  You hurt a lot of people, but you didn’t kill anyone.  That, in itself, is a minor miracle.”

 

“Yeah, well, forgive me if I don’t see that the same way,” Steve said bitterly.

 

* * *

 

 

**THREE DAYS EARLIER**

 

“Howard, slow down,” Peggy snapped.  The connection was bad and he was talking a mile a minute.  “What about Finow?”

 

She listened, in horror, as Howard related the fact that his failed invention had been commandeered by General McGuinness.  Hundreds of Russian soldiers were dead.  They’d torn each other apart, according to Howard.  

 

“Peggy,” Howard said, his desperation clear, “we can’t let this stuff get loose.  We have to find it, contain it, and then destroy it.  We have to find McGuinness.  He took everything I had.  There’s enough for a dozen Finows.”

 

As she listened to him, Peggy was searching through status reports, trying to determine the location of General McGuinness’s shipment.  Her stomach dropped as she read the most recent report.  “Howard,” she said, “it may be too late.”  There was a deafening silence on the other end of the line.  “According to my intel, General McGuinness returned from Germany yesterday.  Several shipments were sent to R&D labs in Buckinghamshire.”

 

“Those places are locked up tight,” Howard said.  “It may be okay.”

 

Peggy swallowed thickly.  “Howard, we lost contact with one of the labs late yesterday.”  There was silence.  “A team was sent to investigate.  They haven’t reported in.”

 

“Oh, Peggy.”

 

“Howard, you don’t understand the worst of it,” she said.  “Steve is with them.”

 

* * *

 

 

Peggy’s knuckles were white as the Jeep raced along the winding country roads.  Howard didn’t have a clear idea of how Midnight Oil might affect Steve’s physiology.  His metabolism was incredibly efficient, which might mean its effects, if it did affect him, might be very abbreviated.  Or it might have no effect at all.  Or it might have effects no one had witnessed yet.

 

In her mind, Peggy kept replaying Howard’s descriptions of what the Russian soldiers did to one another at Finow.  She had faith that the compound wouldn’t prove fatal to Steve, but if he succumbed, even briefly, to the same psychosis that affected the Russian soldiers, there was no telling how much damage he could inflict.  If the Midnight Oil didn’t kill him, the guilt would.  

 

For all his strength, Steve was not a vicious man.  He did not lash out, much less kill, unless absolutely necessary.  He thought through situations rather than using his considerable brute force.

 

If he did succumb to the toxin, if he did lash out at his fellow soldiers ...  Peggy couldn’t finish the thought.  “Can’t this damn thing go any faster?” she snapped at the young lieutenant.

 

* * *

 

 

There were a dozen armed guards outside the facility doors when she arrived.  The officer in charge headed to meet her before the Jeep had even stopped moving.

 

“Sergeant Bell,” he said.

 

She nodded in acknowledgement.  “Report.”

 

He shook his head.  “There hasn’t been any contact from inside the facility since last night.  The team entered around 0600 this morning.  None of them have reported in either.”

 

“Quarantine the area,” she said sharply.  “Anyone leaving the facility should be considered hostile and subdued as quickly as possible.”

 

He nodded and started barking orders to the men as Peggy reached in the Jeep.  She looked at the vial of liquid she’d taken from Howard’s office in London, on his orders.  His research indicated that it should make her immune to the effects of Midnight Oil.  She prayed he was right as she dropped a half dozen drops of the brackish, bitter liquid under her tongue.  He’d been adamant she only take six drops.  Steve would need at least twice that.  If she could find a way to get him to take it.  Jesus, this plan was utter shite.

 

Grimacing, she reached for her flashlight and pistol, clipping the radio to her belt.  In her pocket was one of Howard’s experimental weapons, some type of stun device that he thought might be enough to subdue Steve.  Maybe.  

 

“Ma’am, you’re not going in there,” Bell said as she approached the door.

 

“I am,” she said tightly.  “Let’s hope there are survivors to be found.”

 

* * *

 

 

Like most SSR R&D facilities, there were multiple checkpoints inside the building, which was an enormous concrete bunker.  Peggy approached the first door cautiously.  There was nothing to see or hear.  She keyed in the code, wincing at the godawful racket the door made as it latched open.  Pistol first, she inched through the doorway.  The facility lights were still on, thankfully.

 

She grimaced.  She could see a pair of legs sticking out in the hallway beyond.  And farther down, someone slumped against the wall, both clearly dead.  Peggy searched room after room and found nothing but carnage and dead bodies.  No survivors.  No Steve.

 

It was nearly half an hour later when she finally heard something, movement.  She held the stun gun in her hand and looked through the doorway.  The room beyond was some kind of storage facility, there were bars, a cage of some sort.  It didn’t look like a brig, but it was probably as close as this place got.  The bars looked solid.  As she stood there, she saw something move inside.  There were too many boxes in the way, she couldn’t see, but she was betting it was Steve.  She had no other explanation for why she hadn’t found him among the casualties.

 

She crept into the room, stun gun at the ready.  She tried to peer between the boxes on the shelves inside the cage.  She couldn’t see anything.  She finally walked to the door of the cage and took a deep breath.  There was Steve, crouched in the corner, watching her.  She looked him over.  At a glance, he didn’t appear to be hurt and he didn’t appear to be covered in any more carnage than she was by virtue of walking through the facility.  

 

“Steve?” she said.

 

His head twitched at the sound of her voice and he watched her closely, but he didn’t respond.  In a fluid movement, he shifted his weight to the balls of his feet and stood, moving toward her.  Peggy reflexively took a step back.  She knew in very clinical terms how fast and strong Steve was.  But day to day, he was so deliberate with his movements, so mindful, that it was easy to forget he wasn’t your average soldier.  Watching him now, it was clear he was more than simply human.  There was an animal fluidity, something decidedly predatory, about the way he moved.

 

“Steve?” she said again.

 

This time he didn’t twitch, but he watched her, eyes unblinking.  She swallowed thickly and his gaze dropped to follow the movement of her neck.  Shit.  She looked at the bars.  The cage was solid, if you needed to store something.  But if Steve decided he needed out of there, it wasn’t going to hold him for long.  She needed to find a way to take charge of this situation.

 

“Steve,” she barked.  “Step back.”

 

He blinked at her, but did not move.

 

Still holding the stun gun, she used her left hand to dig in her pocket for the vial of Howard’s antidote.  Why wasn’t this aerosolized too?  That man never made things easy.  How the hell was she supposed to get Steve to take this?

 

“Steve, you must listen to me,” she said. “I have medication.  I need you to take it.”

 

He continued to watch her, but there was no indication he understood anything she was saying.   _Jesus_.  She looked at him.  While it was clear he could do something aggressive, the fact that he wasn’t, was encouraging.  Howard’s description of Midnight Oil didn’t sound like its effects left any room for rational thought.  Steve wasn’t Steve, that was clear.  But he wasn’t feral.  Perhaps he metabolized the drug in a completely different manner from other men.

 

Cursing to herself, she reached for the door to the cage.  It had the kind of lock that would only open from the outside, and locked immediately when closed.  Her earlier assessment still stood.  If Steve decided he wanted out of there, the cage wasn’t going to stop him for long.  Slowly, she opened the door.

 

Steve stood where he was, watching her.  His breathing was shallow and he sounded somewhat raspy.  That could definitely be a side effect of the Midnight Oil.  She approached him carefully, stun gun still at the ready.  She held the vial up.  “I need you to take some of this,” she said.

 

He watched her, expression flat.  She wondered, absently, if this is what Hydra soldiers felt when they faced him on the battlefield.  Steve was an incredibly efficient fighter.  It was so at odds with the gentle man she knew him to be.  She was unnerved.

 

She used her thumb to open the vial.  How the hell was she going to do this?  If he decided he wanted to grab her and snap her neck, this damn stun gun wasn’t going to save her.  Not in these close quarters.  She finally gave up and set it on one of the shelves, along with her sidearm.  In a close quarters scuffle with him, she’d be just as likely to shoot herself as him and she’d rather not do either.  He watched her movements, but did not respond.  She stepped close, closer than she’d ever been to him.  She was very aware of the labored sound of his breathing, the way his hands clenched and unclenched as he watched her, as if he wanted to reach for her, but something was stopping him.

 

Very slowly, she reached out to him, allowing her fingers to very lightly make contact with his chest.  He looked down at her hand, but did not move.  She inched closer, slowly sliding her hand upward.

 

“I need you to take this,” she said softly, holding up the vial again.  She opened her mouth, miming for him.

 

He watched her, narrowing his eyes, but then mirrored her actions, opening his mouth.  Peggy held up the vial, aware that her hand was shaking and carefully shook several drops into his mouth.  He allowed it and then pulled back with a start, coughing violently.  

 

It startled her so much that she nearly dropped the vial.  She clutched at it, trying to get a firmer grip, but it slipped between her fingers.  She lurched forward, diving for it and succeeded in smashing the vial against the edge of one of the shelves, splattering both herself and Steve with the contents and slicing her palm open on the broken glass.  She had the antidote in her eyes, her mouth, all over her hand.  Steve had been equally coated.

 

She yelped in pain, pulling her hand back, looking at the blood mixed with the brackish liquid.  Steve caught her wrist in his hand, holding it.  Peggy wiped impatiently at her eyes, and tried to spit out the liquid in her mouth.  It burned, shit it burned.  Whatever it was, it had an alcohol base.  Steve still had her left hand in his grasp, but he too was wiping at his eyes, shaking his head.

 

He looked at her.  “Peggy?”

 

She could have wept with relief.  “Steve,” she said, leaning forward, resting her right hand against his chest.  He looked down at her in confusion.  She sighed, shoulders slumping forward.  She hadn’t realized how scared she’d been.

 

She stood there, leaning against him when she realized he was still holding her injured hand.  He moved it, sniffing at it.  She pulled back and looked up at him.  He sniffed at her palm again and then licked from her wrist, across the cut to the tips of her fingers.  She shivered at the sensation, moaning aloud.

 

Immediately, his face was right next to hers as he sniffed at her neck, just under her jaw.  Reflexively, she leaned her head away from him, giving him better access.  She could have sworn he growled.  His hands found her hips, pulling her tightly against him as he licked and nipped at her neck.  She twined the fingers of her uninjured hand through his hair, around his skull, gripping the back of his head at the nape, holding him to her.

 

And then, all at once, it was frantic desire.  Their clothes were gone in moments, shredded.  Peggy and Steve were on the floor, Peggy on top, her palms braced against his shoulders, holding him down.  Peggy was aware of what she was doing, but her physical need was completely overpowering.  What the fuck was in Howard’s antidote?  He could have at least mentioned potential side effects.  The bastard.

 

Steve growled, bringing her attention back to the moment.  She growled back, shifting her weight so more of it was over her hands.  She knew, that even altered, maybe _especially_ altered, if Steve wanted off the floor, she wasn’t going to stop him.  But he didn’t seem to have any problem with her being in charge, so long as they were touching.  She ground down against him, feeling his hardness, smiling at the sensation.  He wanted her.  She wanted him too.

 

She pushed herself up on hands and knees and reached for his cock, stroking roughly.  His eyes rolled back in his head and his hips thrust up against her.  While this was enjoyable, it was not what she needed.  Grasping him in hand, she slowly sank down onto him, hissing in pleasure.  His fingers bit deeply into her hips and she looked down at him.  She knew he wanted to move, but he was forcing himself to stay still, to wait for her.

 

She grasped his hands in hers, moving them from her hips to her breasts.  He made this little sound in the back of his throat that sent shivers down her spine.  She arched into his touch and began moving on him.  So maybe it was the drugs.  Or maybe it was Steve.  But _fuck_ , sex had never felt so good.  She moved on him, eyes tightly shut, concentrating on their mutual rhythm, riding him hard.  

 

She could feel the sensation starting and she gasped, going with it, chasing it.  She’d _never_.  Not like this.  Not without the manual intervention of some well placed fingers.  She yelped, back arching as she came around him.  He kept her moving, wringing every last bit of sensation from her climax.  

 

Breathing hard, she slumped forward, hands on his shoulders again.  She looked down at him and there was still an animal hunger in his eyes, but he waited for her.  Rather inelegantly, she rolled to her side, dragging him with her.  She came to rest on her back, him above her, her legs around his waist.  His brow furrowed as he rearranged himself, trying to determine how and where elbows and knees needed to be to ensure maximum contact without crushing her.  She finally grabbed his face and pulled him down for a hungry kiss while she dug her heels into his backside, urging him to get on with it.

 

He took the hint.  Eagerly.  He drove into her with abandon, his hips slapping against hers in a steady, driving rhythm.  Beneath him, she moaned, arching up against him.  Another big _never_.  Certainly never like this.  Never even the barest hint of reaching climax in this position and yet ... She dug her nails into the corded muscle of his back.  “ _Yes_ ,” she hissed.

 

He dipped his head, burying his face against the side of her neck, concentrating on moving in time with her.  She clenched her teeth, her body cording as another orgasm washed over her.  This time, it was too much for him and he followed her.

 

He rested against her for long moments, but eventually he was just too heavy and she shoved at his shoulder.  Carefully, he moved off her.  They both lay on the dirty concrete floor, staring at the ceiling, breathing hard.  Peggy knew she should be spent, but _fuck_ , she wanted him again.  She lifted her head and looked down his body.  He didn’t look done either.  

 

“I’m going to kill Howard,” she cursed.

 

* * *

 

 

Peggy had no idea how long they’d been ... going at it.  She really didn’t have any more eloquent a description for it than that.  She had a wrist watch at one point.  Lord only knew where it was now.  She couldn’t check the time.  Steve was dozing.  That’s all they done for ... hours, at the very least.  Fuck and sleep.  Sleep and fuck.  Peggy felt like maybe Howard’s antidote was finally wearing off.  For her, at least.  All of her nerve endings still felt too sensitive, but she was finally able to resist waking Steve for another round.  At least, for now.  As far as Steve, she had no idea what side effects he was currently experiencing.  She didn’t know if it was just the antidote, or the antidote plus the Midnight Oil, plus Steve’s own unique physiology, or something else entirely.

 

Steve wasn’t himself, Peggy knew that.  He really wasn’t verbal.  And the fact that he wasn’t covered in a head to toe blush made it clear some higher reasoning was not engaged.  He was certainly less physically inhibited than usual, certainly more aggressive.  But not necessarily objectively aggressive.  Definitely not violent.  He didn’t like to be out of contact with her, she knew that much.  Even now, if she inched away from him so they weren’t physically touching, he would have woken.  But she didn’t feel threatened in the least.  At least not by his actions.  She did feel quite at the mercy of her own libido.

 

God, the things they’d done.  Peggy thought she was reasonably well versed, sexually.  She wasn’t a prude.  She enjoyed sex.  She’d had several partners, some of them more adept than others.  She knew that Steve was an innocent.  Or as much as any man could be an innocent when he was best friends with Bucky Barnes.  Surely Steve knew, or at the very least, suspected quite a lot.  But Peggy knew he’d never put any of that knowledge into action.  Steve’s creativity and lack of inhibition was astounding.  His attentiveness to her responses, to the things that made her go wild, made all of her previous partners nothing more than a dim memory.  There was absolutely no comparison.

 

There was a loud clang somewhere overhead and Peggy sat up.  She could hear boots.  At her side, Steve was instantly awake and on alert.  He grabbed her by the hips and hauled her into his lap, trying to ascertain where the danger was.

 

“It’s okay,” she said.  She looked into his eyes.  He still wasn’t right.  He still wasn’t entirely Steve.  And while he didn’t pose any threat to _her_ beyond the one to her own willpower, she was not at all sure the same would be true for a group of soldiers who might burst through the door.  

 

She scrambled out of his lap and rummaged through their ruined clothes.  Her shirt was a complete waste, as was her brassiere and skirt.  She didn’t even know where the rest of her undergarments were.  She settled for pulling Steve’s undershirt over her head.  It hit her mid-thigh.  She tossed his shorts and trousers at him.  He just looked from her to the garments, frowning.  “Put them on,” she snapped.

 

He reluctantly did as she said, rising to his feet and reaching down to help her up.  The footfalls were closer now and she heard the outer door open.  

 

“Anyone in here?” a gruff male voice called.

 

Steve’s hand clamped around Peggy’s arm.  

 

“Yes,” Peggy called.  “Agent Carter and Captain Rogers.  Please keep your distance.”

 

There was some yelling and then more footfalls.  Peggy looked between the boxes on the shelves, trying to see into the outer room.  There were at least a half dozen soldiers, all armed, approaching the cage.

 

“Stand down,” Peggy repeated.

 

“Ma’am, this is Sergeant Whitman,” an American voice called.  “Have you been harmed?”

 

“No, Sergeant,” Peggy replied,  “But please keep your distance.  Captain Rogers is still experiencing the effects of the Midnight Oil.”

 

She heard several muffled curses and the footsteps retreated.  She looked at Steve.  His entire body was taut, beaded with perspiration.  She could see the muscles in his jaw clench and his eyes darted around the room.  Shit.

 

The boots returned, more of them this time.  

 

“Ma’am, don’t you worry.  We’ll have you out of there in a minute.”

 

“I don’t want out of here,” Peggy yelled.  “Stand down.  This is a volatile situation and you’re making it worse.”

 

The sound of boots approached.  Steve physically moved Peggy out of the way, forcing her behind him.  It gave her a rather sobering view of his back, which was crisscrossed with deep fingernail grooves.  She frowned.

 

Sergeant Whitman finally came to stand at the mesh door of the cage, watching them.  Peggy kept trying to look around Steve, but he kept moving, forcing her back.  “Bloody, hell,” she cursed, shoving at him as hard as she could, scrambling around him.  She managed to get in front of him, but no farther as he clamped an arm around her waist, pinning her to his chest.  She glared at Sergeant Whitman.  “You need to leave.  Now.  Contact Colonel Phillips with the SSR and Howard Stark.”

 

“Ma’am, we have orders to take this facility by any means necessary,” Sergeant Whitman said.  He pushed open the door to the cage and he and a half dozen other soldiers crowded in.  Peggy felt herself go cold and clammy.  There was no way this was going to end well.

 

“Please,” she said, holding her hand out toward Sergeant Whitman, in a plea for him to stop.  She inched forward, pushing away from Steve.  Reluctantly, he let her go.  “Please,” she repeated.  “You must leave.  Contact Colonel Phillips.”

 

One of the soldiers shot something.  Peggy felt it whiz past her ear.  She turned and looked at Steve.  They both stared at the small dart sticking out of his left shoulder.  Peggy was still staring at Steve when she felt Sergeant Whitman’s hand clamp down hard on her wrist.  Instinctively, she winced, knowing what was going to happen.

 

Predictably, Sergeant Whitman wrenched her toward him, pulling her away from Steve.  

 

And Steve promptly lost his goddamn mind.  The bellow of incoherent rage sent shivers down her spine.

 

Whitman threw Peggy behind himself, into the arms of several waiting soldiers who physically picked her up and ran for the exit.  Peggy forced herself not to cry out, knowing it would only enrage Steve further.  She could already hear the sickening thuds of a stupendous fist fight brewing inside the storage cage.

 

* * *

 

 

**June 27, 1944**

 

“C’mon,” Howard snapped, motioning at Steve.

 

Howard had been gone on some “errand” for the last hour, leaving Steve to stew with his fears for Peggy.  Frowning, Steve followed Howard through the complex, up and outside and into one of the many Jeeps.  Howard kept nervously looking over his shoulder.  “Where are we going?” Steve asked.

 

“I found out where Peg is,” Howard said.  “We’re going to get her.”  The small private hospital was far outside London and it wasn’t a quick drive.

 

“Did Phillips tell you?” Steve asked.

 

Howard shook his head.  “Had to liberate some documentation.  There weren’t any specifics on Peggy’s injuries, just that she was sent to this hospital for treatment and recovery.”

 

“Phillips didn’t want anybody to find her,” Steve said dourly.

 

“He doesn’t want McGuinness to find her.  And he was probably trying to give her privacy, Steve,” Howard said.  “You know how Peg is about having people in her business.”  He looked over at Steve.  “You really don’t remember anything?”

 

Steve shook his head.  “Nothing.  Nothing until I woke up in the infirmary in restraints.”

 

The rounded a corner and the hospital came into view, nestled in a small valley.  Howard took the quaint circular drive faster than was prudent, but Steve wasn’t going to complain.  He was desperate to see Peggy, to ascertain how much she’d been hurt.  They screeched to a stop in front of the main building.  

 

“Okay, Pal, you wait here, I’ll go check - “

 

Steve laid a hand on Howard’s arm, stopping him.  At Howard’s confused expression, Steve pointed across the expanse of grass, to the figure sprinting across it toward the road.  “You drive down and meet her at the road,” he said.  “I’ll try and catch her.”

 

“Yeah, Pal,” Howard said absently.

 

Steve took off across the grass, sprinting after Peggy.  It looked like she’d stolen an orderly’s  uniform.  The pants were too long and kept getting caught.  He was fairly certain she didn’t know he was there, so when he got within shouting distance, he called to her.  She glanced over her shoulder mid-stride, missed a step and went rolling.  Steve was immediately at her side.  “Are you okay?”

 

She blinked up at him.  “Steve?”  She cursed under her breath, shaking her right hand, which was bandaged.

 

He looked down at her.  “Why are you running away from the hospital?”

 

“I decided I no longer wished to avail myself of their hospitality,” she said curtly, frowning.  She looked around him toward the hospital.  “Help me,” she said.  “I have to get out of here.”

 

“Come on,” he said, helping her up.  “We have an accomplice waiting down on the road.”

 

They walked toward the Jeep and Howard stepped out, arms open wide.  “Peggy!” he said with a smile.

 

She pulled back and punched him as hard as she could, knocking him in the dirt.  She pounced on top of him, knees on his chest.  “You son of a bitch,” she growled.  “Why didn’t you tell me about your bloody antidote?”

 

Steve pulled her off him and she didn’t fight, going limp in his arms, though she was still cursing at Howard.  Frowning, Steve pushed her toward the Jeep before helping Howard up.  Howard climbed into the backseat and Steve drove while Peggy sat in the passenger’s seat, glaring daggers at Howard.

 

“What the hell was wrong with my antidote?” Howard asked.  “I didn’t think you gave him any according to the reports from the team that went in after you.”

 

Steve suspected that if they weren’t in a moving vehicle, Peggy would have launched herself at Howard again and throttled him.  

 

All in all, Peggy looked a lot better than Steve had feared.  The bandaged hand was clearly a problem and beyond the bandage, her wrist was completely black and blue.  He could also see the shadow of bruises and scrapes along her arms.  He was pretty sure he’d seen further injuries on her legs when she’d fallen.  

 

“Peggy,” Steve said quietly.  Damn, he didn’t want to be having this conversation in front of Howard, but he also couldn’t put it off.  “Peggy, I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

 

Peggy looked from Howard to Steve, brow furrowed.  “What’re you on about?”

 

“I said I’m sorry I hurt you,” Steve said again, eyes darting between the road and Peggy.

 

She shook her head and looked away dismissively.  “You didn’t hurt me.”

 

Steve reached over and held up her bandaged hand.  Peggy looked at her hand.  “Oh,” she said.  “I did that,” she said, looking at the bandage.  “On accident.  Chalk it up to my inherent grace.”  Turning her attention to her wrist, she said, “That was courtesy of Sergeant Whitman and his ridiculously unnecessary rescue.”  She looked at him in confusion.  “Do you not remember?”

 

He shook his head.  “I don’t remember any of it.”

 

“ _Oh_ ,” she said quietly, looking away, clearly stunned.  “Oh.”

 

“How did you hurt your hand?” Howard asked.

 

Peggy looked at her injured hand and then with her good hand, reached over and smacked Howard in the head as hard as she could.  “I injured myself dropping the damn vial of your bloody antidote,” Peggy cursed.

 

Howard looked at her, wide eyed.  “How much of the antidote did you get?”

 

“How much?” she demanded incredulously.  “ _All of it_ , Howard.  All of it.  Me and Steve both.”

 

Howard sat back in his seat, lips pursed together, looking from Steve to Peggy and back.  “Oh.”

 

Peggy glared at him.  “You ass.  I hate you.”

 

* * *

 

 

Steve crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Howard as Howard walked back into the parlor holding a stack of ladies’ clothes.  Steve wasn’t going to ask how or why he had them.  They were at Howard’s apartment on the outskirts of London.  It was, without a doubt, the fanciest and most modern home Steve had ever been in, which he was sure was Howard’s intent when he leased it.  Steve frowned.  “So, what, exactly, was in this antidote?” he asked.

 

Peggy was upstairs in one of the bedrooms, showering.  Steve thought it best to broach the subject with Howard while Peggy was otherwise occupied.

 

Howard frowned.  “You have to understand that the antidote is effective, in specific doses.”  He sighed.  “Midnight oil works on the adrenal system.  Fight or flight.  It sends it into overdrive.  Makes people stay awake longer, fight harder, reduced susceptibility to pain.”

 

“So the antidote does the opposite?” Steve asked.

 

Howard winced.  “In very small doses, it can counteract the effects on the adrenal system.  It works on very different physiological mechanisms.”

 

Steve narrowed his eyes.  Howard was using a lot of big words to avoid having to say anything.  “What is it?” he demanded.

 

Howard shrugged.  “An aphrodisiac,” he said.  “A really effective one.  Suppresses adrenal response, lowers inhibitions, promotes feelings of connection and well being.”

 

Steve’s brow furrowed.  “An aphrodisiac?”

 

“Yeah,” Howard said awkwardly, “you know it makes ya wanna - “

 

“I know what the word means, Howard,” Steve said sourly.  He frowned.  “So how big of a dose did Peggy and I get?”

 

Howard arched an eyebrow.  “The dose to counteract the Midnight Oil was six drops for most people.  I told Peggy to give you a double dose.”

 

“But Peggy said we got the whole vial.  How many doses was that?”

 

Howard frowned.  “Well, if she dropped the vial, we can assume some of it was lost.  Even if it hit your skin, it would be inert.  It would have to be taken orally or maybe through eyes or other mucous membranes - “

 

“Howard.”

 

“Hundreds of antidote level doses,” Howard said flatly.  “And a whopper of a dose for a straight up aphrodisiac.”

 

Steve stood there.  “So Peggy and I got dosed with some weaponized aphrodisiac and then we were locked in a cage for at least eighteen hours.”

 

Howard looked at him, smiling rather wickedly.  “The memories might come back,” he said.  Then he added, “They’re probably worth getting back.”

 

Steve glared at him.

 

Howard pushed the stack of clothes toward Steve.  “She’s pissed at me,” Howard said.  “Not you.  She doesn’t seem to be even mildly irritated with you.  And she _does_ remember what happened.”  He gave Steve a meaningful look.  “Scent is the sense most closely related to memory.”

 

Steve just shook his head, frowning as he turned toward the stairs.  He walked slowly.  So, the logical explanation was that he and Peggy hadn’t played cards for eighteen hours in the cage.  They ... they ...

 

Steve hadn’t told anyone, but he’d had ... dreams, the previous night.  At least he thought they were dreams.  Dreams, which at the time, had felt wildly inappropriate and disrespectful.  When he’d woken up, he felt like he was thirteen again.  But in light of Howard’s explanation, Steve was wondering if they weren’t memories.  But if he and Peggy ... if they’d done those things.  He swallowed thickly.  How the hell was he going to face her?  He’d been like an animal, rutting on the floor, growling, biting.

 

Steve was distracted, lost in his thoughts.  The bedroom door was open and he walked inside, intending to leave the clothes for Peggy.  The bathroom door was open on the far side of the bedroom and she stood there in only her undergarments, staring into the mirror over the sink.  Steve stopped dead in his tracks.  

 

Peggy in her undergarments would have been more than enough to stop him in his tracks, but this was an entirely different sort of fascination.  She was covered in bruises and scrapes.  There were several deep bruises on her hips which were clearly handprints.  He knew if he measured his hands to them, they would be a perfect fit.  Just looking at them, he could almost feel the texture of her skin beneath his hands.

 

Peggy was braiding her wet hair.  Oblivious to his presence, she turned, reaching for a hair pin to pin the braid to the back of her head.  When she turned, Steve saw the bruise at the nape of her neck.  They were teeth marks.   _Oh, God._

 

He must have made a sound of distress.  Peggy immediately turned to stare at him.  They stood there for far too long, just looking at one another.  

 

Steve finally remembered himself and started to try to explain.  Peggy frowned and cut across him, striding out of the bathroom toward the bedroom door.  “You’ve seen far more than this,” she said blandly.  She walked around him and shut and locked the bedroom door.

 

Steve just watched her, walking around the room.  He knew he was beet red, but she was so matter of fact about the whole thing.  She turned and looked at him, crossing her arms over her chest.  “Though, I suppose maybe if you don’t remember it, it doesn’t count.”

 

“About that,” he said quietly, frowning.

 

She looked at him.  “You do remember.”

 

“Parts,” he admitted cautiously.  He shrugged.  “Peggy, I’m so sorry.”

 

She held up her hand, stopping him.  “What, exactly, do you remember that would give you the impression that it wasn’t entirely mutual?”

 

He just stared at her, unsure how to respond.  It was true enough that there wasn’t anything he remembered that made him think he was forcing her into anything.  Other than that they were rutting on the floor.  He motioned vaguely toward her.  “I hurt you,” he said.  “Your bruises - “

 

She looked at herself, arching an eyebrow.  “I have to admit, they are rather impressive, aren’t they?”  She looked at him.  “I can hardly be faulted for healing slower than you.  Trust me, Steve, I gave as good as I got.  You should have seen your back.”

 

He swallowed thickly, remember the fading wounds he’d woken with in the hospital.  Surely some of them had been from the fight, but Peggy was claiming some portion of them as well.  He motioned toward her hair.  “There, uh ... “  God, he was blushing even harder.  “There’s a ... bite mark on the back of your neck.”

 

She reached back, wincing as she touched it.  She shrugged. pulling her hair out of the braid.  “Guess I won’t be wearing my hair up for a while.”

 

Steve just stared at her, confused.  He knew how a fella was supposed to treat a lady, especially a lady like Peggy Carter.  And he, most certainly, had not treated her right.  But rather than appreciating his concern, she seemed downright irritated about it.

 

She seemed to take pity on him and stepped closer.  He forced himself to stay where he was.  She reached up, pressing her hand to his jaw.  Unable to help himself, he closed his eyes and pushed into her touch.  She pulled his head down until they were cheek to cheek.  His fingers rested lightly at her waist and he breathed deeply.  Howard was right.  Just the smell of her skin brought memories flooding back.  He remembered her face contorted in pleasure, her nails biting into his skin as she encouraged him.

 

“I’ve had other partners, Steve,” she said quietly, “but none of them could even begin to hold a candle to you.  I’m sure some part of it was Howard’s bloody antidote, but a whole lot of it was just us.  I wanted you.  More than I’ve ever wanted anyone.  And you did not disappoint.”

 

His fingers tightened at her waist, pulling her closer, but he forced himself to be gentle.  His breath was too short and he was getting hard just from the proximity and her words.

 

Her hand moved around, threading through his hair, toying at the nape of his neck.  He could feel her jaw work as she licked her lips.  “You made me come so many times,” she said, her breath hot against his ear.  “God, Steve, the things you did with your tongue.  I didn’t even know -”

 

He kissed her, pressing her back against the bed.  She went eagerly, working at the buttons of his shirt as she pulled him to her.  In short order, they were both naked.  Steve was gentle, mindful of her bruises, despite her frustration with his caution.  She finally relented, letting him do what he wanted when he pinned her to the bed and kissed his way down her body, hooking her legs over his shoulders.  

 

God, the taste and smell of her.  He remembered this.  Her fingers threaded through his hair and her hips pushed up against him.  He teased her, just a little, but brought her to two quick peaks that left her boneless and limp.  She welcomed him gladly, wrapping her legs around his waist as he slid inside her, hissing through his teeth.  He remembered this, but the memories didn’t do the reality justice.  She fit around him so perfectly and the feel of her hands at his shoulders, his back, her teeth nipping along his jaw, her lips on his, sucking his tongue into her mouth.  He groaned, driving into her.

 

* * *

 

 

A long while later, they lay together, sprawled across the bed, staring at the ceiling.  “Well, I guess that settles any lingering doubts about it being the antidote,” Peggy said, chuckling as she curled against Steve’s side.

 

He frowned, but wrapped an arm around her, holding her close.  “Why were you tearing ass across the hospital lawn when we got there?” he asked.

 

“I heard some of the doctors talking about McGuinness,” she said.  “He was coming to ‘check in on’ me.  I decided it best to not be there when he arrived.”

 

Steve looked over at her.  “Why would he want you?  You weren’t even exposed to the Midnight Oil.”

 

“No,” she said, “but he either didn’t know that, or didn't care.  I’m sure he really wanted a crack at you.  Despite how much it wounds my ego, I do understand I’m an easier target than you.”

 

Steve snorted.  “I really doubt that’s true.”

 

She levered herself up on an elbow, looking at him.  “Steve, you beat the hell out of a dozen highly trained and armed men, _after_ they’d sedated you.”

 

He frowned, shaking his head.  “That part, I really don’t remember much,” he admitted.  “Why did I attack them?  That was after the antidote, right?”

 

She looked down at him, her expression softening.  “You weren’t aggressive,” she said.  “Not toward me.  Not even before the antidote.  I don’t believe you hurt any of the men who went with you.”

 

Steve sighed, relieved, but still perplexed.  “This doesn’t explain why I beat the hell out of those guys.”

 

Peggy pursed her lips together and the tops of her cheeks went pink.  He just stared at her.  After everything that happened, what was it that could make her blush?  

 

“What?” he pressed, curious.  She wouldn’t look at him.

 

“They, uh,” she said, swallowing thickly.  “They took me away from you.”  She finally looked down at him.  “You were fine.  I mean, not friendly, but okay, nonviolent, as long as I was there, touching you.  But that idiot Sergeant grabbed me and they dragged me away and you ... came completely unhinged.”

 

“Oh,” he said, looking at her.  He still didn’t see why that would make her blush.

 

“I guess you, uh, must feel a little possessive about me,” she said.

 

He just blinked at her.  Was this a rhetorical question?  “You could say that,” he said.  He was always so careful to make sure he didn’t disrespect her competence or undermine her authority.  But yeah, the idea of someone laying a hand on Peggy Carter was enough to drive him to physical violence.

 

She shook her head, looking away.  “I just, I don’t want to presume anything.  I mean, physical chemistry is one thing, but - “

 

“I love you,” he said flatly.  “I’ve loved you for .... a long time.”

 

She looked down at him, smiling softly.  “I love you too.”

 

“Good,” he said, rolling over, pulling her close.  “Now that it’s settled.”

 

She laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck.

 

END STORY


End file.
